Reed Denson 4:00 P.M Mrs. Jenkins Classroom “The guidance counselor is here” Jennifer Wensin announced loudly to the noisy class. Everybody stared at her in disbelief. The creepy guidance counselor is here again and now she’s going to our room. Our damn room. Maybe it’s just typical mix up. But of course, I know better than believing that this is a mix up. You see, the guidance counselor is a monster to students like us but when it comes to the principal, she suddenly becomes the sweetest person in the planet. Like she just came out to cheer everybody and brighten anybody’s day. She’s like Cheer bear the only difference is Cheer bear doesn’t transform into a monster whenever the principal’s not at the school. “I know right. What a-“ The door swung open and it creates a loud squeaky sound. The class, curious by the noise, looked at the door and waited for someone to come in. And someone did. The guidance counselor was here. All of the students became quiet and sat properly on their chairs. Meanwhile, the guidance counselor entered the room. I gotta say she looks better than the last time we saw her. Although she still looks like she came from Sleepy Hollow which I think is cool for me. She whispered something to Eugene Hygleson. He stood up and arranged five chairs in front of the class facing us. He returned to his seat and she nodded in agreement. “Good morning. I am here to give you a project about one of this school’s problems.” She said. Maybe it’s the disgusting cafeteria pizza or the use of coupon bond instead of toilet paper in the restroom. I thought. “Students believing in stereotypes.” She continued. Not what I expected but okay. I can roll with that. “As you can see, Hindell High has 5 common stereotypes namely the prankster, the Goth, the nerd, the dork and the popular who tend to be the school’s source of entertainment.” She looked at Jennifer Wensin, the school’s most popular senior. Jennifer Wensin can be described in 3 words. Slut, cheerleader and make up. She is the typical backstabbing stick of Crayola who sleeps with your significant other while you go do your laundry. Jennifer rolled her eyes and continued twisting her hair with her index finger. On the other hand, the guidance counselor did her best not to whack that bitch. Don’t think that I’m making this sound exaggerated. It’s true. The guidance counselor had this face where you know she’s going to kill someone so brutal she’s going to rot in prison for her mistakes. “This project is for the sake of all of you having the greatest time before they go into the real world where happiness is barely seen.” She paused and looked at us with the same face she did to Jennifer. “We classified this class into the said stereotypes and picked the students we think represents each stereotype the best. So let’s start with the prankster.” Everybody looked at me. They already knew the answer. I am the one who’s picked as the prankster. “Reed you know we picked you.” I sighed and walked in front of the class. I sat on one of the chairs they set up a while ago and quietly cursed the guidance counselor. “Great. One down four to go. Next is the Goth stereotype and we picked Pete Wentz” Pete Wentz stared at her and like me, walked in front of the class and sat to the next chair to my left. He propped his elbow on the armchair and rested his head on his palm. I looked at him and back to the rest of the class. He is the perfect representative for the Goth stereotype with all the eyeliner and fishnet looks. I guess we can be classified into stereotypes after all. “Now for the dork stereotype.” She looked at the paper she’s holding. “Can Patrick Stump please go in front and seat with your fellow representatives.” And he did. Like what I did to Pete, I also did it to Patrick and the rest of the representatives. I examined their appearance. Patrick has sideburns and dorky glasses while Eugene, the representative of the nerds, wear checkered pants that goes up to his waist and down to his ankles. And of course, Jennifer is a Crayola. “Before I leave you with your class stereotypes, I am going to explain the project a little more. The project is graded and it’s a class grade. Meaning if this five-“She pointed at us. “Don’t participate in the project, then I guess this class of seniors won’t graduate. And for the representatives, please meet me at my office after classes. That’s all. Thank you.” She left the room making the class quiet. I looked at the representatives one last time before heading to another classroom for another class. I never thought I would say this but we are one crazy hell of a mix up and I feel something great is going to happen.